


Uncles

by Crockzilla



Series: Domesti-Kink with Spideypool [37]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Play, Baking, Big!Peggy, Big!Peter, Big!Wade, Dadpool, Fluff, Little!Nat, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pasha the Grumpy Cat, Spider-mom, cuteness, gay uncles, mama peggy, puppies and kitties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 05:02:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crockzilla/pseuds/Crockzilla
Summary: Little Nat spends a whole day with her Gay Uncles.





	Uncles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarnImmigrant](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=DarnImmigrant).



The first Saturday of spring on Natasha’s wall calendar (which she had in addition to her phone calendar because they were useful and Sam had given her one with alternating pictures of kittens and puppies each month and she kept it proudly displayed at her very public desk at Avenger’s HQ) had written across it in red pen, “Gay Uncles.”

She took a picture of it with her phone after confirming the date with Peter and sent it to both him and Wade, which was how Peter knew she had it on her calendar, and how he knew about the kitties and puppies. Peter imagined visitors to HQ passing by her desk, trying to comment on her adorable calendar, and getting one of Natasha’s Emotionless Stares. He giggled. He wasn’t sure he could wait the three weeks until Little Nat got to hang out with her Gay Uncles for a whole day.

He may have gone out and purchased a set of puppy-and-kitty-themed art supplies.

*~*~*

Wade really liked Natasha. Which was not surprising, now that they were bros and he knew her better, but the thought of going back in time and telling Past Wade that in the future he would willingly hang out with Scary McRussian Hair still entertained him. They both enjoyed collecting new and exciting ways of maiming people, they’d both been hideously abused and brainwashed by shady organizations who also messed with their memories, and Natasha was the only person he knew who appreciated Murder She Wrote as much as he did.

He found himself nervous and excited about the prospect of hanging out with Natasha while she was in her Little space. Peter was just straight up excited, which was adorable and did not surprise Wade at all. They had a whole list of potential activities which they were fairly sure would entertain an eight-to-twelve-ish year old – Peggy was very supportive in helping them figure out how to prepare for Natasha’s slightly older age spectrum and assured them that they’d do just fine.

Peggy also warned them not to let Little Nat wrap them too tightly around her finger.

“It’s not that she’ll do it on purpose, necessarily,” Peggy explained to Wade at their Planning Brunch, “but she may – ask for what she wants, and you may have to tell her no. Simple as that.”

Right, Wade thought. Simple as that. No biggie. After all, Dadpool was an actual, honest-to-goodness Dad – he could do the boundaries thing. He was great about telling Ellie “no.”

When he shared this logic with Peter, his tiny love laughed himself silly. And then Peter called Ellie, told her what Wade had said, and they both laughed themselves into near catatonia. He’d never noticed before, but they both had really annoying laughs. He told them this. It made them laugh harder.

Okay, so he allowed his child to have ice cream for dinner on a regular basis and had once given her a genetically-engineered sentient super puppy. Lots of parents did that, Wade was pretty sure.

It also turned out that Peter had zero room to talk.

The night before Little Nat’s day with her Gay Uncles, she was with Peggy and had called them while she was aged down (she tended to slip in and out of Little space at her leisure, evidently). Peter asked her if she wanted to bake the next day, and if so what she wanted to bake.

“Danish pastries?” she asked in her sweet, slightly lighter voice.

“For sure!” her Uncle Peter answered without hesitation.

“We’re going to go buy pastry dough, right?” Wade asked, but Peter was already digging through the fridge to find the fancy-ass European butter.

 _Tell me you’re not making Danish pastry dough,_ Peggy texted Wade, but by that time Peter was already hammering out two great big hunks of butter with a rolling pin. He came back to the apartment thrice during their patrol to roll and fold the dough, which was pretty hilarious (“Listen up, Burglar Guy – you’d better not make me late to turn my dough!”) but Wade was also growing concerned.

The next morning, Wade had to restrain Peter from throwing the dough out and starting over because his lamination wasn’t going to be good enough. Wade had a feeling that the only reason Peter didn’t use his Spidey-strength to overpower him and remake the pastry anyway was that Natasha and Peggy chose that moment to knock at their door.

As soon as Natasha came into the apartment, Wade was immensely glad that Peter had stayed up half the night rolling and chilling a slab of dough. In fact, he was overwhelmed with a desire to give Nat absolutely anything she might take it into her head to want – her head with its two adorable matching plaits secured with fuzzy purple scrunchies at the ends.

*~*~*

Peter hated Danish pastry dough. Hated it. Hated. It.

“You made pastry!” Natasha exclaimed, hugging him hard before her Mama had a chance to help her take off her pretty blue jacket.

“Of course I did,” he said, returning the hug and suddenly feeling a rush of affection for Danish pastry dough. “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Peter was pretty sure he saw Peggy shake her head ruefully as he handed Natasha the pastry cutter and let her start dividing the dough into narrow strips. “Little Fox, you’ll be good and take care of your uncles, yes?”

“Yes, Mama,” Little Nat replied, turning her attention from the pastry to give Peggy a hug and kiss on the cheek. Peter had to squeeze a hand towel in order to contain his feelings from witnessing so much cuteness in such a short time.

“Good luck,” Peter thought he heard Peggy say to Wade as she left. He wasn’t sure what she was so worried about – Nat skewed older than the rest of them when she was Little. This would be a piece of cake. They were going to make pastries and do art projects and play Beauty Shop (because Wade had asked specifically to do so) and possibly play video games. There would be no legos for anyone to step on, no Robot Glamazon narratives to negotiate, no horrifically messy little kid snacks – Nat was a big girl.

Soon the three of them were covered in flour (and a little bit of egg wash) watching their surprisingly good-looking pastries rise in the oven.

“What should we top them with?” Peter asked, opening the fridge.

“Do you have raspberries?” Natasha asked from where she was adorably crouched on the floor in front of the oven.

Oops. Peter was pretty sure they did not have raspberries. A thorough look through the fridge confirmed it – they had strawberries, blackberries, blueberries, and a kiwi fruit but no raspberries.

“I’ll go to the market,” Wade offered, and before either Peter or Natasha could say anything, he was out the door and back by the time the pastries came out of the oven. With an ungodly amount of raspberries.

Natasha rewarded her Uncle Wade with a big hug and kiss. “Raspberries are Pasha’s favorite.”

And to demonstrate his gratefulness, Pasha also gave Uncle Wade a kiss on the nose. “Aw, you’re welcome, Pasha,” Wade said, petting the unbelievably grumpy looking stuffed cat, which pleased Natasha very much. Peter giggled quietly as he set the raspberries into the crevices of the cooling pastries.

If someone had asked Peter to make a pastry that demonstrated absolutely every way that Danish pastry dough could go wrong, he would have made these pastries. The butter had all run out, there was zero lamination, and they were over-baked. He should have overpowered Wade with his Spidey-strength and made them over again like he’d wanted to.

“They’re so pretty,” Natasha said, admiring one of the little twisted pastries before popping it into her mouth. “Can we bake more things?”

Peter looked at the twenty four crispy pastries that covered their kitchen table, and yet he heard himself say, “Sure we can – what else should we bake?”

Forty-five minutes later, there were two dozen ginger cookies (Pasha’s other favorite) crammed in among the Danish pastries, a loaf of bread proving in the bedroom (because their kitchen was way too hot at this point), and a custard tart in the oven.

Peter loved baking. Like a lot. But he was starting to feel a little overwhelmed.

“Say, does anyone here like kitties and puppies?” Wade said, opening their craft drawer and pulling out the glittery stickers Peter had bought weeks ago. Natasha squealed with delight, and Peter felt his chest flood with love for his guy as they fled the kitchen.

An hour later, the three of them were lightly dusted in glitter and both Peter and Wade were sporting rather severe hot-glue burns, but they were also surrounded by a variety of impressive kitty-and-puppy crafts (Wade had started a Pinterest board weeks ago). Nat and Pasha played with the new friends they had created while the Gay Uncles lay back on the couch, relatively exhausted but blissfully happy.

They had fully expected Little Nat to be absolutely precious, but actually seeing her like this – Peter had observed before that being in Little-head just meant being yourself but without adult worries and self-consciousness, and it was the same with Nat. It was just that she usually hid herself even more than the rest of them, her sweetness and playfulness coming out in very subtle and surprising ways, so seeing it all out in the open with no filters was – amazing.

Peter then noticed it was after noon and remarked that they should probably eat something besides pastry for lunch. “We could make grilled cheese or we could have salads or we could make pasta,” he listed off as Little Nat and Pasha listened, intently. “Or we could do something else. What would you like?”

She squeezed Pasha a moment, a kind of uncertain expression in her big brown eyes that made Peter’s heart twinge. “Could we go out?” she asked in a small voice.

“Of course we can!” Wade answered immediately. The uncertainty on their little niece’s face was instantly replaced by a big grin, and it occurred to neither of them that pretending to be shy might have been a tactic to get exactly what she wanted.

*~*~*

Right after announcing that they could definitely go out for lunch, Wade was struck with a big old Anxiety Truck full of Anxiety. How would that work, exactly? He and Peter occasionally got some weird looks when they went out simply because a) one of them looked like a pepperoni pizza that had been set on fire and b) the gayness. And now they were going to go out to lunch with their good friend the international super spy who was pretending to be their nine-ish-year-old niece?

“It’s fine, we’ll go to that bistro,” Peter reassured as he donned the sweater Natasha had picked out for him.

“What bistro?” Wade whispered as he put on the polka-dotted tie Nat had paired with this Hannah Montana hoodie (Pasha’s favorite, she had said).

“The one down the street,” Peter reminded as he pulled all of their jackets out of the closet, because it was a fucking cold first day of spring, “the one Tony owns.”

“Oh, that bistro,” Wade whispered as they walked out the door. They hadn’t been to that bistro since their ill-fated double date with Dr. Strange, but he had to admit – it was a great idea. Discreet yet zazzy.

“Uncle Wade, why are we whispering?” Nat whispered, swinging his and Peter’s hands as she descended the stairs between them.

“Because whispering is fun,” he answered in a loud whisper. “Uncle Peter, isn’t whispering fun?”

“Yeah, whispering is a lot of fun,” Uncle Peter answered in a whisper, which made all three of them giggle.

Natasha and Peter were the same height (Nat had about an inch on Peter, if Wade was honest) but by strategically staggering themselves on the stairs and applying super strength, they were able to lift her up between them several times before they got to the bottom floor. The giggling interspersed with occasional loud whispering carried them all the way down the street to the cute little bistro.

*~*~*

To Peter’s relief, the three of them didn’t attract any more attention than Wade and Peter did on the rare occasion that they went out to eat as a couple. In fact, Natasha’s presence seemed to garner good will from their fellow patrons. After all, this was a city that was regularly swarmed with a variety of alien beings – two gay weirdoes ordering lunch for a pretty lady with adorable French braids was pleasantly normal.

“What looks good?” Peter asked, leaning toward Natasha and her menu. It was so delightfully strange to cater to her like this – Peter was used to Nat always taking care of him and everyone else in clever and indirect ways. She chewed her lip, looking uncertainly between him and the menu.

“Truffle mac and cheese?”

“Ooh, that sounds good,” Peter reassured. It seemed like maybe she’d slipped a little younger since they’d sat down at their table, which was fascinating and really cute. He tried to find truffle mac and cheese on the classily small menu and didn’t see it. Oop. “Is that – do they have that here?”

“If they don’t, they’ll make it for you,” Uncle Wade chimed in. Little Nat smiled, squinching her nose.

“Can you do truffle mac and cheese?” Peter asked when the server arrived, bracing for The Look he usually got when Wade low-key pressured him into making a special order (for instance, no one in the NYC metro area would put carne asada in waffles. No one.)

“Sure,” said the server, amiably. “Do you want actual truffles or you want it to taste like truffles?”

Peter looked to Nat, who made a face. “Taste like, please,” he said, handing the serve their menus with immense relief.

“We can never let Tony know how much we enjoy this place,” Wade said when they’d gotten their food and had started happily chowing down. Natasha and Peter both giggled.

“How’s your mac, sweetheart?” Peter asked, noticing that his little niece had taken a few bites and was now pushing her pasta around with her fork. Nat glanced up at him and nodded, taking another bite but not seeming enthusiastic about it.

Peter leaned close so she’d feel sure no one but the three of them could hear. “You don’t have to eat it if you’re not into it.”

Her face colored a little bit, and Peter’s heart gave a twinge. “But you asked them to make it special for me,” she said in a small voice.

“That’s okay!” Wade said, “Uncle Peter and I love mac and cheese, it won’t go to waste.”

“What would you like instead?” Peter asked, encouragingly.

Nat looked between the two of them, then looked at the slightly-eaten burgers sitting on their plates.

Moments later, Little Nat was happily eating two burgers with the eaten-bits cut away while her gay uncles munched on mac and cheese out of the same bowl.

*~*~*

Wade decided that after this he was making Beauty Shop a regular activity any time anyone was Little.

“Oh, Uncle Peter is beautiful!” he announced in a sing-song voice that made Nat laugh adorably. He liked that a great deal, the whole making her laugh as if she wasn’t worried about being too loud or showing too much of how she felt.

“Yes, this is going to be my new every day look,” Peter admired his super bright rouge and glittery purple eye-shadow in the mirror, and Nat giggled so hard that she nearly fell off of the sink (but Uncle Wade caught her just in time, of course).

“Your turn?” he asked, and Natasha nodded, eagerly. Peter had evidently paid attention the several times Wade had made up his face and he proved an excellent assistant as Wade applied lips, cheeks, and eyes, letting Nat pick out her colors for each area, of course. She was a perfect subject and held very still.

“Pasha’s turn?” she asked when they’d finished, holding up the stuffed cat.

“Why not?” Wade shrugged, making both his beloved and his sweet little niece giggle some more as he made a show of applying lip liner to the cat’s super grumpy face. Yes, Beauty Shop was definitely getting added to their regular repertoire.

“Aren’t you all lovely,” said an elegant voice, and the three of them looked up to see Peggy standing in the bathroom door.

“Mama, look! I’m a unicorn!” Natasha exclaimed, proudly showing off her glittery pink-purple-blue make-up color combo.

“You are indeed,” Peggy said with an affectionate laugh as Natasha launched herself into her arms. Wade felt Peter grab his arm, mostly likely to keep from coo-ing out loud at the adorable display.

“Have you taken good care of your uncles?” Peggy asked, eyeing the explosion of make-up and beauty products that littered their small bathroom.

“Oh, yes,” Peter assured before Nat could say anything. “She made us all kinds of crafts and she baked for us –“

“Yes, I saw the patisserie you’ve set up in your kitchen,” Peggy said with an arched eyebrow.

“Do we have to go right now?” Natasha asked her mom with Big Please Eyes that rivaled Little Peter’s, and Wade was not sure how Peggy didn’t spontaneously melt from the cute. “We haven’t gotten to play video games yet.”

“We do need to go soon,” Peggy said, stroking Nat’s hair in that way that moms did that hypnotized you and made you not want to whine about whatever they were making you do (Wade knew from experience).

Sure enough, Nat didn’t protest, but she did pout a little, holding Pasha to her chest in a resigned manner. Peggy didn’t look like she was going to break, but then she glanced up at him and then at Peter. Wade realized they were both also making pouty faces with Big Please Eyes. Peggy sighed. “But I suppose we can play a few rounds so long as I get to be Peach.”

Peter, Wade, Nat, and Pasha all cheered and hugged poor Peggy in thanks. They brought all of their baked goods into the living room and worked their way through most of them while Peggy kicked all of their asses (and looked absolutely fierce while doing so – Peach was a perfect choice for her). By the time they’d completed six rounds, which was three more than Mama Peg had initially agreed to, they’d consumed most of the ginger cookies and they wrapped up the tart, the Danishes, and the newly-baked loaf of bread to go home to Peggy’s super soldiers who would probably devour them in seconds.

“Love you, Uncle Wade,” Nat said in his ear as she gave him a goodbye hug. Wade squeezed her extra tight and told her that he loved her, too. He watched her have the same exchange with her Uncle Peter, and he may have had to dab at his eyes with a flour-covered towel once their guests had left.

“Now your rouge is all flour-y,” Peter said as he gently wiped at Wade’s cheek with his thumb. Wade leaned in and kissed him, and they stood with their arms around each other for a moment. Nat leaving was an unexpected bereavement.

“I guess she didn’t get to do stuff like that,” Peter said, quietly, “when she was – you know.”

When she was actually little, Wade filled in mentally but didn’t say out loud. He just nodded his head, holding his sweet Spidey a bit tighter. They didn’t talk about that, about what being Little meant for any of them, what it was making up for, what it was healing. But they knew.

“We’re gonna play Beauty Shop whenever anyone is Little from now on, right?” Peter asked as they restored their bathroom, and Wade cooed and gave him another kiss.

*~*~*

The next morning, a package arrived at their door filled with fancy European butter, cartons of eggs, a small crate of raspberries, flour (“The fancy flour!” Peter proclaimed, his voice going up an octave and making Wade giggle but damnit he was excited) and a bottle of truffle oil. The card attached to the package had a drawing of puppies and kitties playing together on the front and read, “To my Gay Uncles, thank you for spoiling me.”

Peter called Natasha, and she picked up right away. “You didn’t have to do that,” he told her.

“I know I didn’t have to,” she said in her grown-up voice. “Anyway, I used my Avengers credit card.”

“Can we do that again soon?” he asked, hopefully.

Nat giggled a very quiet, small approximation of her little kid giggle. “Yes, please.”

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU to DarnImmigrant for requesting Spider-mom and Dadpool taking care of someone together!!! They had fun (so did I!)
> 
> THANK YOU to notlucy for (once again) letting me use her wonderful characters and for providing insight about what Mario character Peggy would prefer!!! (If you need more of the utter preciousness of Little!Nat, go read her story Blue Satin Sashes!)
> 
> Next up: some additions to the "Firsts" chapter of Big (featuring Wade meeting May for the first time), some May/Barbara action (cuz I feel like writing about lady-love), and then exciting kinks like Vampire Gloves and Baking Role Play and SO MUCH MORE!!!
> 
> The Spideypool Prompt Bang is starting SOON. I plan to keep posting Domesti-kink stuff once a week, but if I slow down, it's because I'm prompt banging. It's not too late to sign up!!! Last I heard we still need artists!! Go to spideypoolfanfic.tumblr.com for details!
> 
> Got a request? An idea? Want to say hi? Tumble me! crockzilla.tumblr.com


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